


Goner

by breakingslowly



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:44:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakingslowly/pseuds/breakingslowly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A visit to the grave of Dean Winchester, three years after his death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goner

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YgmgFLV0fp4 Goner by Twenty One Pilots. If you want to cry, listen to it while you read this.

It had been exactly three years since Dean had died. Castiel often found himself waiting for Dean to come back because that's what Winchester's did, right? Three years of searching heaven and hell. Of waiting. Both he and Sam silently agreed not to salt and burn the hunter, they were sure that he'd come back. He hadn't and now Castiel sat beside the grave, trench coat laid over the grass where Dean's body rested six feet under. His head is bowed, eyes closed to keep the tears at bay. The angel's chest feels tight and his eyes sting. Only a cross was there to mark his human's grave.  
The black haired male takes a soft breath in attempt to reassure himself, a hand over his coat as he struggles for words. "Dean..." The single word is a prayer, a song, a declaration of love. The gruff voice speaking the name is tired, old. "It's been a long time."  
His visits were consistent but Castiel rarely talked, finding nothing to say. What could he say? A year after Dean's death, Castiel had screamed at the ground in which his human's remains rested. He had screamed at Dean to get his ass out of the ground, to tell Sam that everything was okay, to go to bars and flirt with random women. He had begged for Dean to give him a chance- a chance to make him happy. He got everything off of his chest that day but he didn't feel any better. It was too late. Today though.. He decided he needed to take a kinder approach.   
"I apologize for our last talk and I hope I've made up for it by coming to keep you company everyday. Wordless, yes, but sometimes that's better." He takes a brief pause, lips curving into a gentle smile as he imagines Dean's cheeky grin and the way he would brush off the apology. "I... Well, I miss you, Dean. Every waking moment, there's an ache in my chest. I never understood human emotion very well but I'm beginning to understand this one. Grief. I am certain that it will never abandon me and I suppose that's fine, it reminds me of you and how you taught me to be something more than a slave to heaven. It reminds me of how I felt when I first saw your soul in hell. Dean Winchester, you have... Had the most beautiful soul. I didn't know it at the time but you were my start. I have lived millions of years before you and only did I begin to live, when I glimpsed your light."  
Castiel's vision is blurry with tears when he opens his eyes and he fists the trench coat in his hand, leaning over the grave as if trying to steady himself. If possible, his chest feels tighter and it seems almost impossible to breathe. His voice is ragged as it leaves his mouth, forced. "I love you. I love you more than heaven and more than earth. I love you more than anything and as much as I want you to come back, it's okay. I want you to know that it's okay to rest, Dean. You don't have to worry about me, because I will manage. I'll take care of Sam. Just be happy wherever you are. Dean, please-"  
A tear drips onto his coat. And then four. And then seven. The angel presses his face into the fabric, breathing heavily. "I love you and this is me letting you go." His throat closes up, his body shaking with emotion. He chokes in a breath of air like a dying man and forces himself up. He forces himself to turn around and forces himself to stare straight ahead, to walk forward.   
A certain ghost watches Castiel leave, kneeled by the coat that was left on his grave. This was best, he had long ago convinced himself. It was good that Cas was moving on but it didn't make the pain stop. He was far from happy.


End file.
